


Green

by belby



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, F/M, Fluff, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 14:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11534424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belby/pseuds/belby
Summary: He leaves the news channel on long enough for her to comment, "Must be fun, swinging from buildings like that. Well, either fun or completely terrifying.""Yeah," Peter says. And then, because he's an idiot, adds, "He's cool."Michelle shifts, kicks her feet up onto the coffee table. "Hm. I'm more into The Winter Soldier type. Dark, mysterious, dangerous.That'scool"Peter is about to reply through a steadily deepening frown -The Winter Soldier??? Cooler than Spider-Man??? Really???- but when Michelle had shifted on the couch, she had somehow ended up with her shoulder bumping his, their arms almost pressed together, and for some reason the warmth of her body so close is really distracting. So he doesn't say anything.(Peter is a dumb teenage boy who just wants Michelle to think he's cool).





	Green

**Author's Note:**

> wait u mean some ppl saw hoco, witnessed peter and michelle's 3 interactions and _didn't_ come out of the theatre completely obsessed with them??? idk man. sounds fake to me
> 
> (but rlly i love these two and there is a severe lack of content for them so. heres this i guess)

Peter's not really sure when it happened, exactly. One week, Michelle Jones was settled at the end of Peter and Ned's table at lunch, her nose glued to a book, her closed-off posture making him question yet again why she even sat with them at all. The next week, Michelle was slipping in the seat opposite him, dropping her lunch in front of her with a _thump_ and a tired sigh, as though she had been sitting there since the very first day of school.

"Sometimes I think the teacher's all get together in the staff room and conspire against us," she had said, brushing a strand of her wild hair away from her face. "The amount of assignments due next week is really taking a toll on my mental health."

She didn't even look at them, busy opening up her lunch bag and poking around inside, so she missed the dumbfounded looks Peter and Ned had been directing her way.

They were friends with Michelle but...not...really. They were _friendly_ with her... except...she wasn't very friendly. Well....they didn't _hate_  each other, at least. And they were sort of tied together by their awkward, outcast statuses. So it wasn't _that_ weird that Michelle was talking to them. It was just weird that she was acting as though they didn't only ever communicate in small off-handed sentences.

Peter had snuck a look at Ned, who was already looking at him, and gave him a little confused shrug of his shoulders. Ned leaned in, looking as though he wanted to say something to Peter under his breath, but Peter gave him a warning look. He felt as though Michelle would be able to hear whatever Ned was going to say, no matter how quietly he spoke. She was very observant, after all.

And a little intimidating.

"What?" Michelle had asked when she finally looked up them and noticed their odd looks. "Are you guys scared of small talk or something? Because I'd prefer to talk about something else, too, I just don't really know what you two nerds talk about. I mean, you're always whispering so quietly to each other over here."

Ned seemed to break out his stunned stupor. "Do you try to listen in on our conversations?"

"Yeah," Michelle replied. She took a bite of her lunch. Peter and Ned blinked at her. "Never really hear anything though. Well, I used to hear you talking about Liz..." Peter felt his cheek burn up, "you were pretty loud then, but since she left you guys have been whispering a lot. Planning something illegal?"

"No," Peter said. He was suddenly thinking about all the conversations about Spider-Man he and Ned had held at this very table. With Michelle only a few seats away. God, they really were stupid, weren't they? "We're not planning anything. We...just talk about nerd stuff."

Michelle had just shrugged, taking another bite of her lunch. She didn't really say anything else, and after a while had pulled out a book to read. Peter and Ned had spent most of that lunch in silence, glancing at her out of the corner of their eyes.

Afterwards, when it was just the two of them walking to class, Peter and Ned had discussed the many reasons of why on earth Michelle had sat with them. And they questioned whether it was just a one-off thing.

But it wasn't. Michelle sat opposite Peter at the lunch the following day. And the next day. And every other day after that. Sometimes she spoke, sometimes she just read, sometimes she stole some of Peter's lunch and halfheartedly snorted at the lame jokes he was telling Ned, and sometimes she rolled her eyes at their references of Star Wars but gave them an in-depth analysis of Leia's character anyway. Sometimes she fell asleep with her head on the desk and sometimes she kicked Peter under the table. But she was still there, right with them every day.

 

And at some point - even though he'd been more than content with his friend-circle being more of a friend-line made up of the two points of him and Ned - Peter felt that no lunch was complete until Michelle slipped into the seat opposite him. And the friend-line became more of a friend-triangle. And he was surprisingly happy with that.

 

* * *

  

"Look, I know you're really smart and anything. Well...maybe 'really smart' is a bit too generous. I know you're not stupid..."

Michelle's voice startles Peter and he closes his locker quickly to find her standing beside it, hugging her school books to her chest. When she appeared there, Peter doesn't know. Michelle has a real habit of just turning up in random places and acting as though she's been there all long (to the point that makes you question if she really had been there all along, and Peter gives himself a moment to squint at her and wonders if she had actually walked to his locker with him) (she hadn't).

"Was there no middle ground between 'really smart' and 'not stupid'?" Peter asks.

"Hm, maybe. I wasn't looking down when I leapt over it," Michelle replies dismissively. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is you've been missing a lot of school recently and I think you're falling behind in your classes."

"I'm not," Peter replies defensively. He is.

"You are," Michelle says. She shakes her head a little, flicking a strand of hair away from her face. "I'm gonna tutor you."

Someone bumps into Peter and he almost stumbles face first into in his locker. He catches himself, straightens, and suddenly remembers that he is standing in a very crowded hallway, with other students swarming from both directions, their chatter, footsteps, slams of their lockers filling the air. For a very weird moment, Peter had forgotten about his surroundings, as though it was just him and Michelle standing there. Huh.

"You're gonna tutor me?" he asks, leaning against his locker in what he hopes is a casual stance, trying to play-off the fact that he almost face-planted into it. Michelle just raises an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah. Well, help you catch up at least."

"Why?"

"I don't have anything else to do? I don't know. Do you want me to help you or not?"

She looks grumpier than usual and Peter worries that she'll change her mind, so he quickly stammers out a "Yes. Yeah, I'd...like that. Yeah," because honestly hanging out with Michelle, even if they are going to be doing schoolwork, sounds kind of...nice.

"Okay," Michelle says with a short nod. "Cool." Then she steps back and disappears into the crowd of students behind her. Peter thinks he sees her wild mess of curls disappear around a corner, but he stops before he can be sure, and wonders why he was even looking in the first place.

 

* * *

  

When Michelle brings up the tutoring again the next day, she says "Your house or mine?" And Peter, who had been under the impression that they were just going to study in the library, splutters out a "Mine," before he can really think about it. And then Michelle asks, "Is Friday after school okay?" and he replies, "Yeah," and suddenly he has Michelle Jones coming over to his house on Friday.

Oh no. He's going to have to tell _Aunt May._

  
  

"A girl?" Aunt May asks, her expression flitting between surprised and something more...knowing. Peter feels himself turn red and curses himself internally for it.

"She's just a friend," he says quickly, before Aunt May can think anything else. She grins. Too late. "And we're just studying. She's helping me catch up with my school work. That's all."

May is still grinning.

"Please don't make it weird," Peter adds.

"I'm not doing anything," Aunt May says, holding her hands up as though surrendering. "I just think it's great your expanding your social circle a bit. I mean, I love Ned, you know that, but it's good that you have other friends, too. And a _girl friend_..."

" _May..._ "

"What?" Aunt May asks, feigning innocence. "There was a space between those words."

"Yeah," Peter mumbles. " _Sure._ "

Aunt May just laughs, says something about _teenagers_ and throws a slightly damp sponge at him, tells him to wipe down the kitchen counter.

 

* * *

 

On Friday, Peter wakes earlier than usual, and he bounces his leg in class more than usual, and he stammers when Michelle talks to him at lunch more than usual. He's not quite sure what's going on until Ned asks him why he looks so nervous and Peter's mind sort of goes... _oh...I'm nervous_. He mumbles some reply about just being tired, because he's not quite sure how Ned would reply if he told him that he's nervous about Michelle coming over. (Peter's not quite sure what he, himself, thinks of it either, but he doesn't dwell on it).

Michelle takes the train home with Peter after school. She seems to be carrying more books in her bag than usual, Peter can see them bulging out of the fabric, and it looks like it's weighing down heavily on her shoulders. She holds a few extra books in her arms (exactly how much homework has Peter missed out on?) and every now and then she'll hoist them up closer to her chest, raising her shoulders and lowering them with a subtle wince, like she's uncomfortable.

She doesn't say anything about it but Peter can tell it's bothering her as they leave the train and begin the small trek to his apartment. He wonders if he should say something, should offer to carry her bags for her. Was that anti feminist or...something? Surely not, right? He'd offer to carry Ned's bag if it looked heavy. Peter casts nervous a glance at Michelle out of the corner of his eye. She's peering around the neighbourhood, eyes slightly squinted, like she wants to take everything in.

Maybe he can...subtly suggest carrying her books for her. Or...somehow implant the concept of him holding them for her in her mind so she thinks she came up with the idea and will suggest it. Kinda like Inception, or something.

"You...sure do have a lot of books there," Peter tries, and then immediately cringes at himself. Michelle doesn't say anything, but raises an eyebrow at him, so he scrambles for more words, "Ever thought of investing in a kindle? E-reader? Or are you a purist?"

"I like the way books smell," Michelle says.

"How much time do you spend sniffing them?"

The corner of her mouth quirks, like she found that funny. Peter can't help it, he's suddenly grinning at her. She found that _funny_.

"That's all I ever do," she says, and the corner of her lip quivers in response to his cheesy grin. "What do you think I'm doing all the time? _Reading?"_

"Yeah? You mean I've been using books the way wrong this whole time?" Peter asks. Michelle presses her lips together, struggling to squash down a smile. She bumps her shoulder against his.

"You're a loser," she says. Peter suddenly feels warm down to his toes, like she had called him something else.

It also seems to give him a surge of courage because he blurts out, "Can I carry some of your books for you?"

Michelle tilts her chin up, looking down at him with furrowed brows, and Peter clamps his mouth shut about thirty seconds too late.

"Don't think I can carry a couple of books, Parker? Think my poor, female arms can't handle it?"

"No...no I..." Peter stammers. He looks at her then quickly away, towards the road. Throwing himself in front of an incoming car suddenly seems like a good idea.

"But your strong, muscular,  _male_ arms...now they can handle anything, right?"

"No...I wasn't trying to...I didn't mean..."

Michelle pins him down with her gaze and he shuts up, looking back at her with his mouth opening and closing helplessly.

But then she snorts, and shrugs her bag off her shoulder.

"I'm just messing with you," she says, amused. She holds out her bag, arm wobbling with the weight of it, and drops it into Peter's unexpecting arms. He scrambles to catch it. "That thing was really killing my back. Thanks."

"Oh, uh...that's...that's okay," Peter says, slipping one strap of his own bag off his shoulder so he can carry her bag on it. "And it's not that I think you're weaker because you're a girl I...I'm sure you could handle it I just..." he trails off. He can't exactly mention that he has super strength, considering she doesn't know he's Spider-Man, and he's still not sure whether he should tell her. (He does hope that she'll see how easily he's carrying the bags though, and be impressed. But she doesn't even look). 

"I get it," Michelle says, and for some reason she smiles.

 

* * *

 

Having Michelle over is weird. But...not in a bad way. She and Aunt May seem to get along well (and May thankfully refrains from being _too_ embarrassing) and they bond over playfully teasing Peter and he only pretends to mind so they'll laugh. She settles into his room quickly, and before he knows it, there are books everywhere and she has stuck about four pens in her hair and one behind her ear and he has a pen in his hand and a highlighter in his mouth. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor because she had flopped down at his desk before he had the chance, and she's making little flashcards and sticking them up on the wall, and he's watching her in short intervals because he doesn't want her to notice, and she's telling him that he should probably redecorate his room and it's...weird.

Because it's like she's been here a hundred times.

Aunt May invites Michelle to stay over for dinner, because she made pasta and there's plenty for all of them, and so Michelle texts her parents and then she and Peter eat dinner on the couch, flicking lazily through the channels on the television.

"You got Netflix?" Michelle asks. "We should watch a movie or something."

"Okay," Peter says, but not before he absentmindedly changes the channel over to a news channel, and an image of Spider-Man flashes up onto the screen.

It's always a little surreal seeing himself, seeing Spider-Man, on the news, on videos on the internet, plastered across the front of magazines. There's always a moment where he dissociates from Spider-Man completely, as though it is a whole, other, separate being, swinging from the tops of buildings. (And in that moment, it is like he is simply a fan, and all he can think of is how _cool_ Spider-Man is). But then, he remembers the feeling of swinging from rooftop to rooftop, the wind whistling past his ears, and he goes _oh yeah, that's me._ (And he still thinks Spider-Man is cool).

He wonders what Michelle thinks of him.

He leaves the news channel on long enough for her to comment, "Must be fun, swinging from buildings like that. Well, either fun or completely terrifying."

"Yeah," Peter says. And then, because he's an idiot, adds, "He's cool."

Michelle shifts, kicks her feet up onto the coffee table. "Hm. I'm more into The Winter Soldier type. Dark, mysterious, dangerous. _That's_ cool."

Peter is about to reply through a steadily deepening frown - _The Winter Soldier???_   _Cooler than Spider-Man???_ _Really???_ \- but when Michelle had shifted on the couch, she had somehow ended up with her shoulder bumping his, their arms almost pressed together, and for some reason the warmth of her body so close is really distracting. So he doesn't say anything.

 

  
They end up watching some documentary on why the moon landing is fake, but they talk over half of it, and their knees sometimes bump together, and Michelle does bad impersonations of the people being interviewed on screen and, later, holds Peter steady by his shoulders, tells him not to move, and sketches a picture of him. It's good, but Peter knew it was going to be good. All of Michelle's art is good. Everything Michelle does is good. 

Peter shows Michelle how he can juggle, watching her from the corner of his eye, hoping that she'll look impressed (her expression is, as always, unreadable). He tries to teach her, but she only ends up throwing tennis balls at his head (which he could easily dodge, but he lets them hit him because she has this goofy look on her face and he want to capture it in his hands and keep it forever). And the night goes way too quickly, and suddenly Michelle has gone home and he's standing in his room, looking at the flashcards she had stuck up on the wall, and the pens all over the floor and the book she had accidentally left behind. And he puts her drawing of him on his desk, sees that she had scribbled ' _Loser_ by MJ' in the bottom corner, and he hardly sleeps because he can't get his brain to shut up about her. 

 

* * *

  

The next time Peter sees Michelle is on Sunday. He's suited up, perched on the roof of a building, scanning the streets, when he sees a familiar mess of brown curls exit the local library a little way down the road. Peter allows himself a moment to smile, think _'nerd'_ , before his face caves into a frown, his eyes darting to the horizon, where the sun is setting. Michelle can handle herself. Of course she can. But...it's gonna be dark soon. And these streets are not the safest place to be at night.

He hesitates, then decides to follow her.

He strays a little way behind, keeping to rooftops. Michelle seems to have mastered the art of reading while walking, because she swiftly steps out of the way of oncoming strangers while turning the pages of her book (she has two more tucked under her arm, because _of course_ she does). After a while she ducks into a little Indian takeaway place, and Peter settles down on the edge of a rooftop, legs dangling over the edge, watching the street below as he waits for her.

It's dark now, the roads beneath his kicking feet glittering with orange streetlights and bright headlights.

He senses the kid before he sees him, and within seconds he is swinging towards the ground, scooping the kid up his arms, the screech of tires following him, the car only seconds away. The mother is crying when Peter hands over her son, _"Thank you thank you thank you,"_ and Peter smiles even though she can't see it through his suit, but they can hear it in his voice when he tells the kid to _"Stay close to your mom, okay? And always look both ways when your cross the road._ "

He swings back up to the top of the building before the mother can say much else, narrowing his eyes at the little Indian takeaway shop. He can no longer see Michelle inside. _Shit._

He scans the street, making his way along the rooftops, and he catches a glimpse of her, nose still stuck in a book, a second before an arm snatches her elbow, and she disappears into an alleyway.

_SHIT._

If you were to ask Peter what had happened in those moments between him standing on a rooftop, cool night air pricking his skin through the fibres of his suit, and him standing in that damp, dark alleyway, his chest heaving, knuckles bruised, man knocked unconscious and webbed to the wall behind him, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.

But if you were to ask him what Michelle Jones looked like as they stood there; spectacular, shaken Spider-Man, and brilliant, sarcastic, _scared_ High School genius, facing each other in that alleyway, he would've been able to describe every small, agonising detail.

Michelle is breathing heavily, her books, Indian takeout, scattered on the ground around her. She had dropped them as she tried to fight the man off, Peter remembers that. But right now, he is looking at the open, panicked look on her face, her eyes wide and darting from him to the man behind him, as though she is trying to piece everything together. Which, Peter completely understands. It all happened so fast, he's still trying to put it together himself.

"You okay?" Peter asks and her wild eyes finally land steadily on him. She fixes her jacket.

"Yeah," she breathes. "Thanks."

Then, amazingly, she completely composes herself. Her startled, fearful expression, rigid posture, melting into her usual cool, aloof image. She cocks her head towards her attacker.

"What an asshole, right?"

For a moment, Peter can only blink at her. "Yeah. Total asshole." He looks back at the man, who is almost indistinguishable beneath all the web he's currently caught up in, then back at Michelle, who is now grinning.

"Nice job," she says, "kicking his ass."

Peter relaxes - _she's okay_ \- and finds himself smiling back. He glances once again at the attacker, at the look on Michelle's face and he thinks, _I'd like to see The Winter Soldier do **that.**_

 

* * *

  

Peter offers to walk Michelle home and, after a little persuasion ("What? Doesn't the amazing Spider-Man have better things to do?" Michelle had snorted), they head towards her place together, her library books bundled up in his arms.

"Thanks for that," Michelle says, gesturing towards the books. "I had a friend carry my books for me once and it really spoiled me for, like, the rest of my life. I now refuse to carry anything unless absolutely necessary."

Peter lets out a short laugh. "Sounds like a great friend," he replies. Which is, essentially, patting himself on the back. But hey, she doesn't know that.

"Yeah, he is," Michelle says and Peter is suddenly extra glad for his mask, considering it doesn't let her see the stupid smile he has on his face. "Hey, Spider-Man? Mr Spider? Or...is it Mr Man? Do you just go by 'Spider'?"

"Mr Man," Peter says.

"Right," Michelle says, amused. "Okay, _Mr Man_ , can I tell you something?"

Peter pauses, taken back by the question. "Yeah," he replies, slightly uncertain. "Sure."

"Good," Michelle says, with a small nod. "Because I have no one else to tell. And you seem like a trust worthy guy, considering I've seen you save my friends from a falling elevator, and also you saved me, just now, from that creep. Who...you kinda just left in that alleyway, by the way..."

"I'll deal with him later." Peter shrugs.

"Anyway, I'm guessing you have way bigger things to worry about than some teenage girl's dumb ramblings, Mr Man, so I figure I can just tell you, get it off my chest, and you'll forget about it. No harm done."

She comes to a stop and turns to him, looking at him through her lashes. Peter turns to her, his back to the bricked wall of a large bank building, suddenly feeling hot and cold all at once, his heart hammering away in his chest.

"Well," she says. "Mr Man. Guess I should get right to it. There's this guy. At school. He's really cute...and... _smart_ and...I mean, we're friends, but I've liked him for a really long time..."

"Yeah?" Peter breathes, his voice rising a few annoying octaves.

"And I think he might like me back, but I'm not _completely_ sure, you know? So I've been thinking...of making a move...but I'm worried it'll mess everything up."

"It won't," Peter blurts. His eyes go wide and he presses his lips together quickly and _what the fuck is wrong with him?_ Why does he suddenly feel like he's jumped from the top of a skyscraper, the wind rushing past him as he falls, falls, falls, waiting for the last, exhilarating moment before he raises his arm, shoots his web, and catches himself?

"It won't?" Michelle asks, taking a step towards him. "Are you sure?"

"Well, I mean...I don't know...I'm just...you know, guessing. Just making a guess," Peter stumbles over the words. Why is he acting like this. He's _Spider-Man_. And she only knows him, right now, as Spider-Man. And so she's going to confess... _this_...because she thinks she's talking to Spider-Man. And he's going to fuck it all up by being weird.

Michelle just furrows her brow, glancing away thoughtfully. Peter clears his throat, tries to compose himself.

"Can I...can I ask you what his name is?" he asks.

"Why? Do you think you'll know him?"

"No," Peter answers quickly. "It's just...well you said you wanted to get it all off your chest. And I'm gonna forget all of this, remember? So, now is your chance to get everything off your chest. No consequences."

"Hm," Michelle hums. "Okay. Well." She takes another step forward, Peter worries she'll be able to hear how heavily he's breathing. "His name... it's..." Another step forward. He holds his breath. _"Flash."_

Peter almost drops the books.

"Flash," he repeats dumbly. Michelle nods. Peter's reckless heart seems to settle. "Sounds like an asshole."

"I haven't said anything about him," Michelle smirks. Peter stares at her, face burning. _He'd said that out loud!?_

"I just mean..." he stammers, "with a name like _Flash_..."

"I thought you were supposed to be the _friendly_ neighbourhood Spider-Man."

"Well, to be fair, I didn't coin that name for myself."

"Right." Michelle nods. "I'm sure you have many moods."

"Yeah. Exactly."

Michelle smiles, something halfway towards a real, genuine smile. Which is incredibly rare for her, but Peter doesn't even get to appreciate it, because he's too busy thinking about whether or not he should accidentally set all of Flash's school books on fire. How would he do it, exactly? Could he drop a lit match into his locker, would that work? Would he accidentally set the whole school on fire? And what does Michelle see in him anyway? He really is an asshole. And he has zero redeeming qualities. Unless you count the fact that he's rich. But there's no way Michelle would like someone simply because they come from money, she's way better than that. She's the coolest girl Peter knows. The coolest _person_ Peter knows. Sorry, Ned...

"Peter," Michelle says, breaking him from his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry," he says, shaking away images of him kicking Flash out of the decathlon team (and Michelle looking impressed) from his mind. He jolts, registering what she had just called him. "Wait, shit." She grins at him. "You... _know it's me?"_

"Obviously."

"But...but... _what??_ " He stares at her incredulously. "How long have you known? When... _how?"_

"I've always had my suspicions." She shrugs, looking way too collected, considering the situation. Peter feels like he's been split up into a hundred pieces and is scrambling to put himself back together. "And I recognise your voice, loser. I talk to you almost everyday. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

"I..."

"And were you ever going to tell me? Does Ned know? Wait, that's not even a question. Of course he does. That's what you nerds are always whispering about. You should probably learn to be more subtle, you know."

"I didn't _tell_ Ned," Peter says defensively. "He just kinda...found out accidentally. I haven't told anyone. I mean, Aunt May also knows, but she also found out accidentally. I didn't want to tell anyone. And we've stopped talking about it at school, okay. And...and... _you like Flash!_ "

"What?" Michelle scoffs, like that's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. "No I don't."

"But you just said..."

"I was messing with you," Michelle replies, like that's the most obvious thing in the world. Peter feels his body loosen, exhales, feeling so relieved he almost has no room to feel stupid. Almost. "Good to know you'd be jealous if I _did_ like Flash, though."

"I wasn't jealous," Peter says, the green eyed monster releasing it's claws from his shoulders. A rush of heat burns his skin. 

"You were jealous."

"No I wasn't! I just think Flash is an asshole."

Michelle studies him, head tilted to the side, arms folded over her chest. "Take your mask off," she says.

Peter glances around them. They're standing next to a fairly busy street. Cars are passing them. People walking, hurrying across the road, only a few metres away.

"I can't," he tells her. "Not here. Secret identity and all that..."

Her gaze flickers upwards. "Then take me to the roof."

"The..." Peter follows her gaze, which has landed on top of the bank they're currently standing in front of, his mind racing. "O-Okay. I, um. Will have to carry you though..."

She steps closer and, when Peter hesitates, grabs his arm and wraps it around her. She takes the books from his other hand, then loops her own arm around his neck, flush against him. Peter grips her waist, trying not to focus on the feeling of her...everywhere. She's so warm, even through his suit. And soft. His brain stubbornly decides it doesn't want to think about anything else, and he's not quite sure how he manages to get them up onto the roof without dying.

But once they're there, Michelle steps away from him, creeping closer to the edge, and looks out over the bustling roads below. Glittering streetlights below them, twinkling stars above. A wind has picked up, whips her hair, and she pulls it away from her mouth with her pinky. Peter steps up to her side, tugging his mask off.

"Pretty good view," he says, when she doesn't say anything. "I've seen better though. I should show you sometime..."

She's looking at him now, eyes intense, like he's a problem she's trying to solve.

"You know, I wasn't lying before," she says, "when I said you were a good friend."

"Oh," Peter says, startled. "I think you're a good friend too, a really good friend. I, uh. You're awesome. Really."

That seems to catch _her_ off guard, and even though it's dark, Peter thinks she looks slightly...embarrassed. "Well, of course I am," she says, hugging her books to her chest. She hesitates, shifting her feet.

"I also wasn't lying when I said I liked someone," she adds. Peter swallows. Moonlight is catching in her eyes, as she studies him. Hair falling over her face. The night sky rising from her shoulders.

"Yeah?" he says, much quieter than he intends.

"Yeah," she says.

"That really cute, smart, _really cool_  guy..." Peter says.

"I didn't say cool," Michelle says. She steps closer. "He's a bit of a loser, actually."

"But you like him," Peter says. He stares at the light in her eyes.

"Unfortunately," she says. "Do you think I could...try something?"

She is so close now. A breath away. He wants to reach out and touch her.

He nods.

And she leans over and presses her lips to his.

It is only a quick kiss, a peck. But it is sweet and soft and Peter feels a warmth spread from his fingertips to his toes and the feeling lingers even when Michelle pulls away.

He asks, "Can you try that again?"

And she smiles and touches his face, gently, with her fingertips, and she does.

 

* * *

 

That night, Peter walks Michelle right up to her house, and she lifts his mask up to kiss him on the cheek before waving goodbye and hurrying towards her front door. And that night, Peter collapses onto his bed at home, still in his suit, tugs his mask off and grins wildly at the ceiling before rolling over and squishing his face into his pillow.

  
And the next day, Michelle appears at his locker, like she had always been there, and she snorts at him, and calls him a nerd and asks, "what are you doing tonight, loser?" And she ends up back at his house after school.

  
Aunt May is surprised, but thrilled, and she gives Peter a _knowing_ look and he glares at her and tugs Michelle into his room.

  
And they just talk. And Peter makes Michelle laugh, and it's almost the best feeling in the world, second only to the fact that he can lean over and kiss her whenever he wants. And Peter _really_ likes pecking her on the lips, just because he can. (And now that he can, he realises how much he had desperately wanted to before).

  
"So," Peter says. At some point, Michelle had found a pen and slid it behind her ear, and so now he's gathered up all the pens from his desk and is sitting cross-legged in front of her, sticking the pens into her hair one by one. "Do you still like The Winter Soldier better than Spider-Man?"

Michelle splutters out a laugh in surprise, and the movement of her body makes half of the pens fall from her hair. "Oh my god. You're such a loser."

"What?" Peter's shoulders rise defensively. "Okay, well I'm guessing you were just messing with me when you said that. Like when you said you like Flash..."

"No, I was completely serious."

"Oh." Peter pauses. "Well, I kicked his ass, you know."

"Are you gonna go do it again?" Michelle asks, raising an eyebrow. "Because you're jealous?"

"I'm not jealous," Peter replies. Then adds, in a mumbled rush,"But I could totally kick his ass again."

Michelle grins, hooking a finger in the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. "Sure you could," she mumbles, kissing him. "Loser."

Peter smiles but when she pulls away, he mutters, "You never answered my question."

Michelle just kisses him again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me abt these two on [twitter](https://twitter.com/spideychelle) if u want idk im in too deep


End file.
